Do not go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Omega and Alpha
Summary: What happens when the thing you wanted most in the world goes wrong? What if suddeny the heady heaven of his arm became a stranglehold, choking her. What Clarice wanted equality not to bow to him? What would happen then?


Author's Note: Thanks to Callisto1791 who was insane enough to agree with me when I suggested I write a story. Be prepared, it'll probably be a long one.

Disclaimer: Guys, you know the drill. It's pretty obvious they aren't mine, nor's the title. I might, however add a character or two of my own at a later date.

She sat curled up in a chair; she needed time to think. Time to think without his eyes boring into her skull, time to think when he wasn't pressing her to think like he wanted. She let out an unsteady breath; she had chosen this life. Back at Muskrat farm she had chosen him. Now she wasn't sure it what she wanted.

Not that he would permit her to leave. She knew he watched constantly for any sign of dissent, any signal that she was going to run. She wasn't sure that was what she wanted either. Nonetheless she felt stifled in the courtly and stylish world he had introduced her to. She longed for her gun back, she longed to run in the woods as she had done months ago, weeks ago even. Time stood still with him.

She had believed she loved him, she had believed that he wanted her. Now they had each gained what they wanted, she was drowning in mundane normality. She longed for danger. That night on the Cheapsake had merely piqued her interest in the life he had led before her... interference.

When she was with him some of these problems seemed to drift away. When she was with him she could forget their boring life and remember why she had chained herself to it. When she was with him she was drowning in his eyes, his voice his mind. It was now she realized that it was not enough.It would never be enouh. She couldn't belong to him. It was not enough to love one part of her life whilst the rest dragged her down. He had taught her that: he had taught her many things. She had never wanted to belong to anyone, first she had slaved for the idiots at the bureau, now **he** owned her. It made her want to scream.

That was when a flash of the old Clarice returned; she would not let him win, not back then, not now, not ever. He was trapping her. She loved him, but love was not enough. She needed a life and a purpose. He would allow her none of these things, not whilst she _belonged _to him, but she did not belong to him. She needed to prove this as much to herself as him. In his own selfish way he had tied her to him, cutting off each of her influences until she was completely under his control. She could not, would not allow this, so she would leave. This time she would run.

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He observed her across the dining table. She ate slowly, carefully. Every so often she would brush her hair back off her face. Every so often she would glance up to his scrutiny and smile. Every so often he allowed himself a flash of wonder that such a beautiful creature was his.

He knew she was restless and fretful. She had come from a life of excitement, fresh from the thrill of the chase. Originally she had found his lifestyle peaceful, calming. At first he had showered attention on her, teaching her and conversing with her. Now that he had convinced her that she was his, the need for such carefully planned persuasion was passed.

Often, when he was in her company, he sensed that she would prefer to be alone, that she didn't want him near her. So, he had left her alone. But, as he watched the docile creature before him he almost regretted it. Regretted trapping her away from her lifestyle, keeping her locked with him in the lonely place. Almost.

But she would never return, her method of exit was too dramatic for her to return to her old lifestyle. Nor would he ever allow her to leave. Upon committing herself to his keeping she had silently consented to being his, forever. Looking at her made his sense of self-satisfaction grow. Lust mixed in with a longing for contentment. When he lay with her wrapped in his arms he felt happy, or as close to happy as he as ever felt. She made the icy wall around his heart warm.

Always, he watched her carefully. Her restlessness could develop into something more dangerous. Something harmful to the life he had built. Originally she had appeared to consider the option of leaving: but always dismissed it as far-fetched. Recently she had become calmer, more settled. She was slowly growing accustomed to their lifestyle.

She finished her meal and gracefully laid down her cutlery. As she wiped her lips on the napkin she glanced up at him. A faint smile played around her lips and she raised one eyebrow in question. He stood up gracefully and moved towards her, when beside her seat he offered he his hand. She took it and rose with all the poise and elegance of royalty. He drew her towards the bedroom. His mind moved fast to more pleasurable thoughts. Yes, his sense of self-satisfaction was great indeed.


End file.
